


I guess it must be working, to hit me with such precision

by chick_with_wifi



Category: Person of Interest (TV)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-23
Updated: 2017-05-23
Packaged: 2018-11-04 01:24:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,464
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10980435
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chick_with_wifi/pseuds/chick_with_wifi
Summary: Shaw and the Machine confront Root about her reckless behaviour.





	I guess it must be working, to hit me with such precision

“I suppose this is the part where I ask you what the hell you were thinking, running into a hail of gunfire like that?” Shaw asked offhandedly as she stitched up Root’s latest injury, a through-and-through in her right shoulder. 

“They were going to hurt Harold,” Root mumbled, voice devoid of emotion.

“And you bleeding out on the lobby floor would have made all the difference, I’m sure.” She was frowning the faded scars on Root’s bare shoulder, as though she couldn't decide whether to be angry that so many people had shot her or proud that Root’s ‘severe injuries per month’ quota had been steadily decreasing since Shaw’s return. “It’s a good thing Siri called us when She did.”

“I didn't know about that,” Root said quietly.

“Although Reese wasn't too happy about having to ditch Fusco in the middle of a case again,” Shaw continued. “I, on the other hand, had been looking forward to shooting some kneecaps all day.”

While she spoke, Shaw produced a syringe from her sterile tray. “Just some painkillers, hold still. And three, two, one. Done.”

Like she always did since her fun little encounter with Control, Root flinched at the sight of the needle. But Shaw was gentle and always gave her plenty of warning, so she could just about handle it.

“Try not to get shot again any time soon, we’re nearly out of surgical thread and Finch gets annoyed when I steal things.”

“Roger that,” Root said with a wince as she stood up. But her body decided to disobey her instructions and she fell to the ground like a sack of potatoes.

-

When the fog cleared from Root’s brain, the first thing she noticed was Shaw’s foot tapping impatiently.

“About damn time,” Shaw grumbled when she saw Root’s eyes open. She was standing in the subway with her arms folded and a glare even stonier than usual.

“Huh?” Root asked pathetically. She tried to reach up and rub her eyes, but realised that one arm was in a sling and the other was handcuffed to the bench. “Did you...drug me?”

“You gave me no choice. It was that or stand by and let you race off to get killed by that mob when they realise you were the one who stole their technowhatever. Or killed while trying to rescue Finch. Or, my personal favourite, blow your cover and be found by Samaritan.” 

“But I have to rescue him.”

“Are you even listening to me?” Shaw demanded. “Outside world dangerous; Root stupid.”

“I’m not stupid,” Root defended like a petulant child.

Shaw lightly cuffed her upside the head. “You can be when it comes to personal safety.”

“But -”

“But nothing. Two very dangerous organisations who know what you look like are hunting you down. Let the boys handle this one.”

“It's not like I have a choice,” Root said, shaking her cuffed hand for effect.

“Still.” Shaw sat opposite Root and put her feet up on Finch’s desk. “I’m not going anywhere.”

“These theatrics are unnecessary,” Root said.

“I don't think so. Knowing you, the second my back is turned you will be out of that door armed with two guns and a lot of determination. So if you try anything funny I will sedate you again. I didn't even give you that much the first time and you were out for a good few hours.”

-

“Can I go now?”

“No.”

“How about now?”

“No.”

“Now?”

“No.”

“Pleeeeease Sameen?”

“No.”

“But I’m so bored.”

“Maybe you should have thought of that before placing yourself in danger.”

-

A few hours later, John arrived to take over babysitting Root.

“Did you find Harry?” Root asked as soon as he entered the room.

“Yeah. He’s in the safehouse with Fusco. They're gonna wait till this whole thing blows over,” John said. “In the meantime, I’ve come to take over from Shaw and keep you out of trouble.”

“Good luck with that,” Shaw whispered under her breath as she checked her gun was loaded and put it in her holster. Then she stood and motioned for John to sit down. “I’ll see you when I see you. Don't let Root do anything stupid. If she so much as jaywalks I’ll kick your ass so hard you won't be able to sit down for a week.”

“We’ll be fine, Shaw. Now go and meet Fusco. He said if you swung by the safehouse he’d let you play with Bear.”

Shaw walked towards the exit of the subway, pausing to make an ‘I got my eye on you’ gesture at John just before she left. 

As soon as she was out of sight, Root said, “She’s gone, let's have a party!”

“Not so fast. You’re under house arrest until you can be trusted not to do something reckless,” John said.

“Please, when have I ever done anything reckless?”

“I keep a list. Do you want it alphabetically or by likelihood of grievous injury?”

“But apart from those,” Root said quickly. “When have I ever done anything reckless?”

John just shook his head. “You're the type of person that would eat gas station sushi, that’s how reckless you are.”

“I don't even eat sushi!” Root protested. 

“He has a point,” the Machine said.

“Oh, don't you start on me as well,” Root grumbled. “Is it pick on Root day or something?”

“So long as it keeps you out of trouble,” John said.

-

“Root?” Shaw asked as she entered the subway car. “Why is John unconscious and handcuffed to the bench outside?”

“He probably ate some bad gas station sushi,” Root replied without looking away from the computer screen. She was typing one-handed since her other arm was in a sling, and had a bust lip.

“What really happened?” Shaw demanded.

Root shrugged and carried on typing.

“Root, look at me when I’m speaking to you.” Shaw put a hand on Root’s uninjured shoulder and waited until she spun the swivel chair around to face her. Then she spoke slowly, “This isn't just about Finch, is it?”

Root shook her head. “I looked into the guy that shot me, the big one with the tattoos, and it turns out he has connections to some former MI6 agents. I was able to track one of them down; he moved to New York a few years ago, but before that he lived and worked in England. Who else do we know that fits that description?”

Shaw raised her eyebrows and waited for Root to continue.

“Mr Greer. It’s possible that this so-called ‘mob’ is really an offshoot of Samaritan.”

“Are you even listening to yourself right now?” Shaw asked.

Root’s face went slack. “What?”

“England isn't that small, and people move to New York all the time. The chances of this dude having met Greer are tiny, and him working with Greer? Even more unlikely. Look, you’ve had a hard day, you just got shot and I’m pretty sure you don't even remember the last time you slept. It might be time for you to step away from this for a while.”

“How can you even say that? Samaritan is out there and looking to get you back, and you're telling me to back off?”

“This has nothing to do with Samaritan! It was just a disagreement with some gang members over a, uh…”

“Processor,” Root supplied.

“Processor, whatever that is. It has nothing to do with Samaritan. This is what you do. You take fragments of data and construct a story out of them. Before you know it, everyone and their dog is out to get you.”

“In case you haven't noticed, they are. Only the paranoid survive.”

“But this isn't part of some greater conspiracy,” Shaw said.

Root gestured towards the computer screen. “You don't know that. This man went off the grid for a few years between MI6 and his current line of work, I bet if we look into it further we’ll discover more connections. Enough to lead us to the heart of their organisation.”

“This is just grasping at straws, Root. Can you even help yourself?”

“You know I can't.”

The Machine said, “Sameen is right, you know. There is not sufficient evidence to support the hypothesis that this mob is affiliated with Samaritan.”

Root massaed her temples and groaned. “Is Shaw telling me off not enough, you felt the need to chip in as well?”

“We’re just looking out for you,” Shaw said gently. “This vague notion isn't worth getting yourself killed over.”

“Well I guess I’ll just….go take a nap then,” Root said as though she couldn't quite believe the words were coming out of her mouth. “Maybe things will make more sense after I’ve slept.”

“We’ll be here,” Shaw said. “Remember, you’re not alone.”


End file.
